Yes. It’s one of the reasons we Eighties dinosaurs love it so. Cobra Kai is our safe space. It’s our Helm’s Deep of unreconstructed sexism in an otherwise Orcish horde-overrun Middle Earth of gender fluidity, #MeToo and micro-aggressions. This lost world we dimly remember from our youth — the one where the sole point of girls was to persuade them to have sex with you, where fast red sports cars were a source of penis-extending pride, not breast-beating eco-guilt, where God made people fat, ugly or red-headed as His gift for you to taunt them mercilessly at every opportunity — really did exist no matter how hard the subsequent pantywaist generations might try to airbrush this golden era from our history.